


Red as Fire, Dark as Blood

by Bioluminescent



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Dark Neil Josten, Implied Violence, neil josten doesn't exist yet, the foxes are cops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bioluminescent/pseuds/Bioluminescent
Summary: Andrew had been hoping today would be rather stress free, but when someone from Kevin's past is brought into the station coated in blood, he knows he isn't going to get lucky. Now he just has to deal with the fallout.





	Red as Fire, Dark as Blood

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally intended to be closer to a b99/aftg crossover, but when I was writing, it decided to take a darker turn. Either way, I hope you enjoy it! Not betaed, so all mistakes are my own.

Andrew watches from the other side of the glass as Boyd leaves the interrogation room with the sides of his usually smiling mouth turned down and a scowl resting heavy on his features.

A quiet wheeze from the corner of the room draws his attention and he glances over his shoulder to look at Kevin.

No longer looking like he had just been slapped across the face, Kevin is staring at the person remaining in the room, unblinking, and surprisingly still. His fingers are white where they clutch the sleeves of his jacket, and Andrew turns back to the room when Kevin meets his eyes and nods.

Blue eyes flick around the room carelessly as the man currently handcuffed to the table lounges easily in the hard metal chair, as if he has no issue with getting arrested. The blood currently coating his arms up to his elbows streaks the table as he shifts, and he rubs his hands together, smirking when they stick slightly. 

A few minutes pass before Boyd walks in the room they are in, with Captain Wymack trailing in behind him. 

“What did he say?”

They both stare at Kevin from where he now stands just behind Andrew, left fist clenched hard enough to shake.

“Well, I mean, he didn’t really, uh,” Boyd glances at Wymack, clutching the file in his hands like a shield in front of his chest when he cannot seem to keep his eyes from flicking to Andrew.

Andrew sighs. “He wants to talk to Kevin, doesn’t he.”

As expected, Kevin flinches, and he jostles the table Andrew is leaning on. When Andrew meets his frantic gaze, he shakes his head, lips barely moving in a silent plea. It reminds him so much of the time Kevin had gone to Wymack’s house and called Andrew, hand broken and bleeding, and any hope he had of staying alive shattered at his feet, that he has to press his lips together in a thin line.

Wymack pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did he say anything else?”

Boyd shrugs. “He said something in Japanese before you guys got here, then when I didn’t understand he told me to get Kevin.”

Reaching out, Andrew grabs Kevin’s arm as he begins to back away. He tugs a bit, as if testing the strength and commitment of his hold before sagging against the table. 

“He didn’t even tell you his name?”

Before Boyd can answer Wymack, Kevin finally speaks for the first time since they brought the man in.

“Nathaniel Wesninski.”

Immediately the room stills. Andrew can almost feel his memories flipping back in time as he tries to remember why that name sounds familiar. It’s like he swallowed a rock when the image of an utterly sloshed Kevin with his hand newly out of a cast, determinedly slurring through his story flashes in his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Huffing, Wymack glares at Kevin and then Wesninski in the interrogation room before turning back to Kevin. He points a thumb at the glass. “Why isn’t that shit in Baltimore?”

“Captain?” Boyd is standing at the edge of the room, shoulders hunched as his fingers tap a rapid tattoo on the now crinkled file. “Who is he?”

Breaking in before Wymack can do more than breathe, Kevin says, “Nathaniel Wesninski is the only child and heir to Nathan Wesninski, the Butcher of Baltimore.”

Boyd winces. “But isn’t the Butcher in prison? Something about murdering his wife?”

The skin around Kevin’s eyes crinkle as he fights a smile. “He is. But Nathaniel was ordered to maintain and stabilize that branch. No matter the cost.”

The room stills.

“Ordered by who.” 

Kevin only stares at Wesninski, an almost hungry expression in his eyes that has Andrew shifting close enough to dig his nails into his wrist, pressing their arms together in a line of heat.

“Kevin.”

At the sound of his name, Kevin finally stops fighting and allows himself to smile. “I think you already know, Captain.”

Wymack sighs again, closing his eyes as if he can hide himself from the inevitable truth. “Fuck!” He wipes a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

 

Boyd is the only one brave enough (or stupid enough, as far as Andrew is concerned) to break the silence. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is, Captain.”

Ignoring the conversation between the two to turn to Kevin, Andrew looks up at him. Like the dumbass that he is, Kevin is still staring at Wesninski where he sits. Something fizzles in Andrew’s brain at the sight of so much blood on fragile skin, and he shoves it away in the deepest corner of his mind, vowing to call Bee later that night. By now, Wesninski appears to have grown bored without someone to keep him company, and has begun to whistle an upbeat tune to himself. A small smile flashes on Kevin’s face before it slips away into a look of sadness and something much more concerning.

“Kevin.”

He drags his gaze away from the man in the other room, and stares at Andrew, his face obnoxiously open with his emotions. “I can’t,” He shakes his head, “I won’t go back to them.”

Andrew searches his face, before acknowledging the tired acceptance and nodding. 

“Andrew, I _won’t_ go back.” As if to solidify that statement, he reaches out, and at a slight dip of his chin, he tugs at Andrew’s fingers, hidden between their bodies from the view of their coworkers.

When they turn back to the room around them, Wymack is watching them with narrowed eyes before Boyd seems to choke. He points at the one sided mirror in front of them.

Wesninski has managed to turn the chair around to face the mirror and has put his boots on the edge of the table, blood slowly trickling from the soles to form a pool on the table. After a few moments regarding the mirror, he smiles, and gives them a jaunty little wave.

“Jesus Christ.” Wymack growls, before nodding to himself once, as if he has finally decided what to do. “Alright, I’ll go in. And you,” He rounds on them both with a stern glare that Andrew ignores. “Well, Kevin, you are not to do anything you don’t want to, okay?” Kevin opens his mouth and shuts it at the look he gets from Wymack. “Nothing.”

And with that, Captain Wymack leaves the room after leafing through Boyd’s file for a moment before entering into the interrogation room.

The two rooms are quiet as Wymack takes a seat and gives one unimpressed look at the boots on his table. “You’re a long way from home, don’t you think?”

One perfect eyebrow rises smoothly. “Am I?”

Wymack leans back in his chair. The small smile sitting on Wesninski’s pretty little lips does not falter or dip at the hard look he is given. If nothing else, his entire life has taught him to keep his face as blank as he needs it to be.

“Has my request been permitted to take place, Captain?”

Boyd’s shoulders stiffen at the title, and Andrew gives Kevin a warning squeeze on his wrist.

Wymack huffs. “It just so happens to have been denied, Wesninski.”

Finally, the little smile drops. But the curl of his lip and cold intent behind his eyes announces a more dangerous person beneath the blank mask.

“So.” Wesninski chuckles, and Kevin stops breathing next to him. “Looks like our little bird can’t keep a secret after all, can he?” Shoulder length auburn hair shifts as he cocks his head, a slice of blue indicating how he has glanced at the mirror in the wall.

“Not really much of a secret with such a public father, is it, Wesninski?”

Blue flashes back to Wymack, and if anything, Kevin tenses even further, his face red as his eyes flick frantically between the two men in the room.

He smiles again, teeth bared at the room around him, and in a sudden movement, he smoothly drops his feet to the floor and leans against the edge of the table, lacing his bloodied fingers together. “That’s all really just a matter of perspective, David.” Kevin sucks in a breath, his fingers clawing at Andrew’s grasp on his arm. A smirk twists a deceptively passive face into a garish impersonation of utter menace and dark threats. Another chuckle bleeds into his voice as he speaks. “Did you really think we would forget?”

Wymack raises one eyebrow, appearing for all intents and purposes nonchalant in the face of almost certain death, but Andrew can see the way his clenches his fists under the table, and how his jaw clenches just ever so slightly. Not only that, but Kevin has given up trying to claw his hand away and has started tugging him to the door. Andrew plants his feet and Kevin is pulled to a stop.

Face pale, Kevin whips his head to Andrew. “Andrew, we need to --”

“We don’t need to do shit right now.”

_“Andrew.”_

“You need to calm down, and let the Captain do his job.”

Back in the room, Wymack mimics Wesninski’s position. “You really think that I believe you can do anything about all this?” He waves one hand at the room around them.

Feigning surprise, Wesninski rattles the chain of his handcuffs. “Oh, you mean these?” He leans forward even further, dropping his voice to a faux whisper. “I think we all know I could have been out of these and this entire building by now.”

“So why aren’t you?” Wymack’s voice is like a hammer.

His face freezes over into a peculiar stillness. “Now isn’t that the million dollar question.”

A few moments pass by.

“Well?”

“Let me talk to Kevin.”

“No.”

Wesninski shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Then I guess we will never know.”

Wymack grits his teeth before pushing away from the table and exiting the room.

The door bangs open and Wymack looks at Kevin pulling against Andrew’s grip. He shakes his head.

“I want you nowhere near that one,” he points at Wesninski, who is once again smiling at the mirror, “but we have a job to do, if you are willing. And if you are not, nothing will be held against you.”

Kevin nods his head. “He might have something important actually. Once Jean and I were gone, he was the one who had to deal with Riko.”

Holding his gaze, Wymack takes a moment before nodding in defeat. “Fine. But Andrew and I are both coming with you.”

It takes only a few moments before all three are entering the interrogation room.

Andrew places himself next to Kevin as he stands behind the chair Wymack had abandoned, his hands falling onto the back as Wymack takes his other side.

Wesninski is now grinning full force. “Well, well.” Kevin swallows heavily at the face of one of his former family members, the number 4 a dark brand on the cheekbone of Wesninski, the scars on his cheek just under it shining brightly in the fluorescent light. “Our little bird has finally grown out of his pin feathers and taken wing all by himself.”

He swallows again, and Andrew has to fight to roll his eyes.

Kevin manages to choke out a whisper. “What do you want?”

The laughter is a surprise, as well as how familiar the grin on the face before them looks and Andrew fights back the thought of how ironic mirrors are today as Wesninski finally seems to control himself. He lets out a rapid fire sentence in Japanese.

Kevin stares at him. “You’re lying.”

The smile never drops.

A moment passes.

Like a tree in the middle of a hurricane, Kevin sways dangerously, and it takes both Andrew and Wymack to keep him standing.

“Day?”

Kevin ignores Wymack to mutter something in Japanese, to which Wesninski replies in kind. Another chuckle fills the room and Kevin leans onto Andrew, sagging against him and shaking his head.

“How are you not dead yet?”

“Oh, Kevin,” Wesninski pouts, his tone patronizing, watching with glee as Kevin sways again. “I’ve been dead for years. Just ask Jean.”

A stuttering breath against his ear is all the warning Andrew gets before Kevin’s knees give out completely.

At this, Andrew only tightens his grip around Kevin’s waist and turns to Wesninski. Their eyes meet, and Andrew has to bite down a curse at the sight of a familiar monster curling around behind icy blue. Teeth flash again in the harsh light as Wesninski grins. 

“The little guard dog, I see.”

Andrew ignores him. “What did you tell him.”

The smile turns vicious, a warning for the words to come out next. “That I killed Riko, of course.”

The breath in his lungs seems to freeze before shattering in thousands of pieces that burn on the way out just as much as the way in. Kevin bites back a sob next to him, shaking his head as if to keep the words from being spoken.

“How do we know we can trust you.”

Wesninski flicks his eyes back to Andrew from where they had been watching Kevin fall apart. Interest seems to stir in him as he looks Andrew up and down. “You’ll be getting an address tomorrow for the body.”

Trembling and pale, Kevin drags his head up enough to stare blankly at Wesninski. “I can’t believe you haven’t been killed yet for doing that.”

He snickers. “It’s almost as if you think that I did this of my own volition, Kev.”

Kevin freezes. 

“I don’t believe you.”

Wesninski raises one eyebrow. “Really? It’s not like all of this blood is mine.”

At that moment, a glob of gore slips from its precarious perch in his dirty hair, just kissing his nose as it hangs between them, wavering like someone on the edge of a bridge, and the tension grows in the room quick enough at the sight that Andrew thinks Kevin will snap like a twig under the weight. Wesninski pays no attention to it and flicks his head to the side. His hair only gets more into his face, but Andrew can see from the corner of his eye as the chunk of coagulated blood and possibly bone matter sticks to the wall near the floor before slowly slipping down a few centimeters.

If it was possible, Andrew would say that Kevin got even paler, but all he cares about is beating Wymack to the punch.

“How did he die.”

Wymack lets out an exasperated breath, shaking his head in disgust as Wesninski turns his complete attention away from Kevin and to Andrew.

His skin tingles as those eyes travel across his body, and it feels like he is being picked apart by that gaze as another strand of hair slips from his messy ponytail and frames his face with a lick of fire. Wesninski smiles again, but this time it is softer, and at it, Kevin stills once again, wary in the face of something familiar to him.

“Surrounded by family.”


End file.
